The Problem with the ending
by 1rosebyanyothername
Summary: 15 perfectly reasonable ways she could have done the epilogue without naming some poor child Albus Severus
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Like many, i was somewhat disappointed with the end of the seventh installment of the Harry Potter series. Dont get me wrong, I'm not bashing, I actually appreciate it, as it gives me a reason to continue writing. The collection that will follow is a partially collaborative effort. Feedback is more than welcome. By the way, I do not own any part of the Harry Potter Corporate Empire.**

**Without further ado, I give you:  
**

_**15 perfectly reasonable ways she could have done the epilogue without naming some poor child Albus Severus**_

ONE:

17 year old Harry Potter walked slowly towards the lake. Towards the place where two great men now lay buried, the red, burning light of dusk giving the pure white marble tomb an almost bloody glow.

However, it was not this grave he wanted to visit. Harry circled around the large white memorial to the smaller, less imposing headstone of Severus Snape. For a while he simply stood, watching the last few rays of sunlight play over the words engraved on the stone. _Severus Snape, The one mistake the Sorting Hat ever Made._

Harry smiled slightly, remembering Dumbledore's words in the pensieve, perhaps he was right. Perhaps they did sort too soon, before people ever really got the chance to prove themselves.

Kneeling, Harry pulled a photograph out of the pocket of his robes. He watched his one year old self zoom gleefully around on a toy broomstick for a few seconds before carefully placing it on the grass in front of the stone.

"I know you probably don't want it," he said softly, "But I know that you are the reason that I'm here right now, so I thought you ought to have the rest of the picture, you know, to go with the part you have. And-er-well…thanks." Harry got to his feet, and stood gazing out at the castle...

*******

...He saw Ginny coming towards him, smiling, looking for all the world like an angel in white. He raised his hand in greeting before turning back to the familiar grave. Looking the same as it had seven years before, when Harry had left him the picture.

"We got married here because we felt that you and Dumbledore should have been a part of it." He chuckled quietly, imagining his old potions master's look of disgust at this sentiment. "But I also wanted you to know," Harry continued, solemn once again, "that we had our differences, right up to the end, but you, Severus Snape, are one of the bravest men I have had the honor to know."

Harry ran a hand through his hair as he talked, his voice fading until the last two words were only heard as a whisper "Thank You." Then he turned around, and smiled at his wife, and led her away from the graves of the men who had taught him, finally, that it did not matter what house you were in, it was enough to know that you had a home.

*******

**I Hope it was enjoyable, if not, let me know and i will do my best to fix it. until next time, luvs**


	2. Chapter 2

**I have never and Will Never own the Harry Potter series, its characters, or associated corporations. Thank you/**

**Enjoy:**

TWO:

Ginny squeezed his hand, smiling at him. A few paces away, Harry saw Hermione's knuckles go white on Ron's wrist. Ron was fidgeting, obviously uncomfortable in his new, extremely formal dress-robes, which Mrs. Weasley had insisted he and Harry both wear. Hermione looked completely at home in her dress, her hair sleek and shiny again, the bodice of her dress glittered and the white gauze of the skirt floating around her by some magical breeze. Ginny's dress was much less elaborate, a straight white-gold colored silk which Mrs. Weasely had been entirely unable to talk her out of. Ginny had pointed out the Mrs. Weasley was going to be busy enough with designing Hermione's dress, and Mrs. Weasely had said that Hermione was getting a lot of help from Fleur anyways. It was Harry pointing out that Ginny was beautiful whatever she wore that finally dissolved Mrs. Weasley into delighted tears and gotten her to order Ginny's dress.

The church that they were in had been magically enlarged by the former Order wizards, and hundreds of people (most of them red-heads) were squeezed up on the pews.

The Minister of Magic's deep, calming voice boomed out across the silent room.

"You may now kiss the bride," Kingsley said, smiling.

Harry wondered vaguely how much of the roaring in his ears was from the cheering crowd. Hagrid, standing in the back next to a stooped over Grwap was bringing his enormous hands together with claps that sounded like thunder, the house-elves had set down their drinks trays and were cheering hysterically, Mrs. Weasely and Professor McGonagall were sobbing into each other's shoulders as Mr. Weasely tried to pat his wife on the back and clap simultaneously. Trelawney was cheerfully shouting that she saw signs of a long and happy marriage at Percy, who was smiling and trying to edge away. George still looked slightly shaken, but he was smiling and hugging Alicia Spinet. From the back of the room, with a huge magical microphone in one hand and gesturing wildly with the other, was Lee Jordan: "And this is us at _Potterwatch!_ reporting on the double-marriage of Harry and Ginny Potter and their friends Ron and Hermione Weasley! Potter fans will be glad to hear about this joyous day! Of course, anyone who knew Harry was sure this was coming, and blimey we're jealous – just kidding Harry. The who's-who of the Order is here, and blimey who is that! Your _Potterwatch! _ reporter is sorely tempted to leave his microphone for all these lovely ladies! Nope, never mind, her husband Bill Weasley just walked in... sorry Bill. Well let's go see the happy parents! This is Mrs. Weasley, crying too hard to speak, and well, the Grangers seem a bit out of it... Uh-oh ladies and gentlemen, looks like we have a gate-crasher! It is that Queen of nasty, the world's most hated reporter, give it up for, Rita Skeeter! And she is trying to speak to the giant Hagrid, who refuses to let her in... she swears she has an invite, uh-oh, here comes the Bride – and Hermione Granger – no sorry, Weasley, has hexed Rita, folks, looks like she won't be coming back, let me tell you! That Hermione is one hell of a Witch! And here she comes! Well folks, that concludes _Potterwatch! _we may be off the air for a few weeks due to that fact that _the_ Hermione Weasely is coming at me with a wand – next time on _Potterwatch!_" Hermione smiled at Lee, took his microphone, then went straight back up to the front and resumed kissing a bemused Ron.

Harry and Ginny had broken apart already, and they were walking around talking to their guests. ("No, Aunty Muriel, I really did want Hermione to wear the tiara", "Yes, Muriel, I do approve of Ginny's dress, I think she's beautiful", "Professor, it's okay, please don't cry", "Mum, stop it...", "Dung, if I see you trying to steal so much as another speck of dust I swear I will curse you into a slug", "Kreacher, I really don't need you right now, why don't you go off and enjoy yourself...")

Streams of well-wishers, friends and people Harry had never laid eyes on, lined up to give him their gifts to him, Ginny, Ron and Hermione. Xenophilius proudly presented Hermione with a strange, radish-like fruit (to open the mind) while Luna spoke to Harry and Ginny.

"Thanks for being my friends at Hogwarts," Luna said, smiling dreamily, "it was fun. And don't be angry at my father for trying to turn you in. I'm sure his brain was temporarily possessed by the Death Eaters Foliangons, or he would have realized that it was never something I would have wanted."

Harry nodded dumbly, smiling at Ginny. "Yeah, no big deal. Sorry we blew up your house..."

"It's fine," Luna said even more dreamily, "look, I found this in the wreck... she handed Harry the picture of himself and the one of Ginny, with the words 'friends' written on the bottom.

"Thanks, Luna."

"Well, I have to get going, we've got a lot of building to do.." She smiled and dissapparated with a _pop_.

Harry was enjoying Ginny's company immensely, but by the time the fiftieth Weasley cousin had shaken his hand he left her and wandered off into the cemetery behind the church. There were many fresh graves there, and Harry could have stopped and cried at every one, but he didn't feel like ruining his wedding day. It may have been selfish, but it was true. Finally, at the end of the row he found the grave he was looking for, and knelt. This grave's headstone was rough granite, no message underneath the name of the deceased. While the graves beside it were covered in flowers, this one had no decorations, no sign of friends or mourning family coming to visit the lonely grave of Severus Snape. It seemed his only real friend had died long ago, in a flash of green light and a cackle of cruel laughter.

He couldn't smile, remembering Snape: the Snape he had known for so many years had been vindictive, mean, angry and bitter. The Snape Harry had known had hated him – and, Harry felt a small, sad pang at the thought – Harry had hated him back. All those years, Harry was so convinced that Snape was a Death Eater through and through. Harry felt another pang, remembering, not the adult Snape, but the child he had never known, the child who had loved his mother enough to die for her hated son... Harry's throat tightened painfully. _Snape wouldn't have cried here, _he told himself, thinking of the cold man who had bullied Neville, who had done anything to expel Harry, stopping himself from crying for the man he had loathed.

But he remembered the Snape that had put up with so much, who never made a real friend but Lily Evans and never sought a friend after her, who had, in that last conversation with Dumbledore shown an even greater respect for human life than the man who had for so long been Harry's hero and protector. No one alive had loved Severus Snape, after the truth had been told they respected him, they pitied him even... Harry remembered Snape in the pensive, making Dumbledore swear never to reveal that he, too, possessed the human powers of love and remorse. Because after he brought about (_yes_, Harry thought, with a shadow of the old anger, _no matter how unintentionally_) Lily's death, Snape had not loved anyone, and did not have a flower on his grave. Indeed, the only man he had seemed to respect was Dumbledore, who had appeared to treat him as scum, someone unequal, someone low...

And yet he had done even more than Dumbledore, even more in protecting Harry until the end, like some kind of twisted, bat-like fairy godfather... Harry fought a crazy desire to laugh as he pictured a translucent Snape scowling down at him from the heavens, but then the adult Snape turned into his younger one, looking for Lily Evan's son... and the mad laughter died in his throat.

Harry stood, brushing his knees off. He looked down at the stone. It seemed that no one had known what to write, but Snape at least deserved an epitaph. For a few minute Harry stood there, waiting for something to come to him, and sadly he realized that he too, had no idea what Snape would have wanted on his grave. Harry waved his wand.

Here lie the remains of a man who was faithful to the end,

Who did in the dark the jobs no other man would do,

And died for the memory of the woman he loved.

Remember the sacrifice of Severus Snape.

He stowed his wand and looked at the words. "I suppose," he said aloud to Sanpe's grave, "that is probably the last thing that you would have wanted on your grave. But you deserved more friends than you had, and less enemies than you made. Dumbledore was right: you kept the best part of yourself hidden. If you can see me, or hear me, or anything, I guess you might call this revenge. But I think my mother would have been happy, and I still don't think that I've done you justice." Harry took the rose off the pin on his shirt and dropped it on the ground. "Thanks, I guess."

Ginny's voice could be heard about the hubbub of the crowd. "Harry, Harry where are you, there's someone I really want you to meet... there you are!" She grabbed his hand in hers, her wonderfully warm, alive hand, and dragged him away towards another red-haired relative. "You okay?"

Harry grinned, "Yeah. I feel wonderful. Absolutely wonderful."

Ginny hugged him tight. "Me too."

***

**Reviews are appreciated, see you all next week!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I've already disclaimed this story twice. I am not longer going to post a disclaimer at the top of my chapters. Plaese consider this a blanket disclaimer for the rest of the entries. I hope it will suffice**

THREE:

Harry Watched his oldest daughter, Lily, as she placed a single white rose on the grave bearing her name. _Lily Potter, The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death. _As she rose and turned to face him, he saw that there were tears in her warm, brown eyes, eyes so like Ginny's.

Harry put his arm around her as she came closer, still finding it hard to believe that she would soon be seventeen. "Come on," He said quietly, "there's someone else I'd like you to meet."

Winding their way through the long forgotten graves, they came to a plain, black granite headstone. This headstone had no flowers around it, and there was no writing other than the name: _Severus Snape_.

Lily looked at him questioningly. "Who was he, Dad?" Harry sighed.

"He was the bravest man I've ever met. And unfortunately I never understood that until after he died." He looked down at his daughter. "He's the reason you're here right now." She stared at the headstone, a strange light filling her eyes, before shaking her head and returning her gaze to Harry.

"Dad, I'm going to start walking home. Shall I tell mum you'll be in later?" Harry nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude towards her for being so understanding. Lily squeezed his shoulder once before turning around and returning the way they had come. Harry watched her for a moment as she wended her way through the rows of graves, the golden rays of the setting sun reflecting off her shiny, reddish brown hair. After his daughter passed through the small gate, he turned back to the bare stone.

Harry rubbed his face with one hand as he contemplated the grave of the man he had despised, the man to whom he owed his life.

"I'm not certain what to say here," he mumbled. It felt strange; speaking to a stone as though it could understand.

"I used to think I could never forgive you, much less like you." Harry cracked a small smile, but then his face became grave again as he went on: "but, I think that maybe, my mother would have wanted us to get on, well, at least civilly, if not as friends. I know she would have wanted that. I know you blame yourself for her death; I blame you, too, sometimes. It wasn't your fault though, not really, any more than it was Dumbledore's. I know you blamed him, a little, for not stopping it, but it wasn't his wand that cast the spell, or your words that betrayed them. Anyway I know she wouldn't have blamed you. Mum, I mean. She'd just be happy that you tried so hard to protect me. I know dad would be too, not that you care." Harry chuckled, "Don't worry I don't blame you for hating him. Not anymore."

The sun was fading over the horizon, casting a bloody glow over the uncut grass and lopsided headstones. Harry had moved to sit on the ground in front of the stone as he was speaking. Now, noticing for the first time how late it had gotten, Harry moved to stand, still talking.

"I don't mean to bother you, because I know that if you can somehow hear me that's exactly what I'm doing. I just wanted to talk, because I've never really talked to you before, without yelling, anyway. I guess…I just wanted to say thank you. For everything. For trying to save her. For saving me. So……thanks."

Harry laid a hand on the headstone for a moment, and then turned to leave. Taking a step, he paused, and turned back to the headstone. "She loved you, you know. Not in the way that you wanted her to, but she did."

Taking one last look at the lonely grave, Harry walked back home, towards the warmth of a fire, and the love of his family. It had been nineteen years to the day since the final battle, and all was well.

_All was well._

*******

**If you're still reading, I thank you. **

**As always, my dears, i will be counting the days. **

** Until next time.  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**Do not fret, I have returned** **to you; my lovely and loyal readers.**

**Enjoy.**

FOUR:

_Thirteen Years_

_Old, _and the spitting image of his father, James Severus Potter looked around for his parents as he got off the train from school. Seeing his father, he began dragging his trunk towards him until he was close enough to shout. Harry turned and smiled at his son, giving him a brief hug as he loaded his trunk onto the trolley. "How was the year James?" He asked.

"It was great dad," the boy answered enthusiastically, "Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup again, 16th year running." James said proudly. Harry was opening his mouth to reply when a small, redheaded girl, still wearing her Slytherin tie over her muggle jacket crashed onto his side.

"Daddy, daddy!" She grinned, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet. "Daddy we won the house cup Daddy, we won and professor Slughorn said that it was because of me because I pulled us ahead because I got 50 points from professor Longbottom that morning for rescuing Ian's head from the giant flytrap."

James looked down at his eleven year old sister scornfully. "You did no such thing, Lily, you just managed to knock it over on your way to the manure shelves, it's only because Longbottom favors you that you got so many points."

Lily scowled at him, "But it was still because of me wasn't it Daddy?"

Harry laughed and ruffled her hair, as his wife approached, towing a tall, thin twelve-year-old with reddish brown hair and green eyes. "Albus was just telling me about the joke toilet seat he got from his uncle George this year." Ginny said. She was scowling, but her eyes danced as she went on. "We really must give that brother of mine a talking to when we go to dinner tonight."

"Aw _mum!_" Albus cried, "If you yell at him he'll just do something worse, leave him be. It's all in good fun, anyway. Right, dad?"

"Of course," Harry said laughingly. "Besides, dear," he looked at Ginny, "I don't think George has recovered fully from the last time you 'gave him a talking to'."

Albus snorted. Harry clapped him on the shoulder, removed Lily from James's back, and hefted to trunks onto the trolley.

Taking Lily's hand, He smiled at his children, and led them through the barrier into the muggle world. Grateful every day, for the people whose names they now bore.

***

**I had a tough time ending this one, I beg your forgiveness.**

**Goodbye for now my luvs.  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**I feel like it should be mentioned that I don't own Harry Potter because I do used an itty bitty quote in this one..anyway not mine…enjoy.**

FIVE:

Harry looked at the woman that he loved.

The woman who, for some strange, miraculous reason, loved _him_.

_His Wife_.

There was wonder in her eyes as she touched her swollen stomach, swollen with _his_ child. Harry reached out and placed his hand over hers on her abdomen. Her chocolate brown eyes shone brightly as she looked up at him, smiling. "He kicked!" Ginny said excitedly, "I felt him kick! Did you feel it?"

"Yeah. Yeah I felt it." Harry beamed at her. "That's our boy." _Our boy. _Harry brushed a strand of fiery hair away from Ginny's face and kissed her forehead. "You need to go to sleep, Ginny, you'll wear yourself out like this, waking up with every little movement. He's going to be in there for another month, you know. If you keep this up you'll be too tired to help him get out." Harry chuckled and dodged a swat that she halfheartedly aimed at him.

"Ass," She yawned, "But you're right." Ginny sighed crossly and snuggled against his chest, pulling the blankets higher to cover them both, "I hate it when you're right."

"But it happens so rarely!" Harry protested, "I need to be right _sometimes,_ otherwise my ego gets sore."

"Your poor ego." came the muffled reply. Harry chuckled and stroked her hair.

"Go to sleep, my love, you can wound my poor ego in the morning." Harry leaned his dark head against the top of her bright one. Letting his eyes drift close, he listened to Ginny's breathing grow slower and shallower as she drifted off again.

_***_

"_Look at me!" green eyes met black for a split second…and then the black eyes went dark._

Harry's eyes snapped open. He sat up, trying to quiet his ragged breathing. Running a shaking hand through his hair, he eased out from under the blankets and tucked them firmly around a sleeping Ginny before slipping out of their bedroom.

Sitting in the kitchen of their little house with a cup of tea, the dream seemed much less nightmarish. It wasn't the first time that Harry had had this dream, but it felt more real than it had previously; more like he was actually reliving the event, versus simply revisiting the memory. He stirred his tea thoughtfully. Suddenly, he stood up and grabbed his cloak. Leaving his tea unfinished on the kitchen table, Harry scrawled a hasty note to Ginny and walked out the door, apparating the moment he got out from under the wards that were placed on the house.

Harry reappeared in front of the gates of Hogwarts. He allowed himself a moment of nostalgia as he gazed at the large castle, its windows mostly dark with the exception of a few. He smiled slightly as he looked at the lighted windows, remembering the hours he had spent in the common room with his homework after the rest of the school had gone to sleep.

The thought of classes reminded Harry of his reason for coming. He passed through the gates onto the grounds, coming to a stop when he reached the grave of his old potion's master. The gravestone was plain black granite. There was no epitaph. The stone simply read _Severus Snape _in square white letters. It didn't look untended, simply unembellished. It suited him. Hermione had been there recently, Harry saw: a single white rose lay on the ground in front of the stone. Harry knelt on the ground, careful not to crush the rose, and placed a small black and white picture on the stone.

"It's a muggle sonogram," He explained, "Ginny's pregnant." He stood and faced the grave, hands in his pockets. "I thought you should have it, seeing as you're the reason he's being born into a safe world. I've been dreaming again, you know, about the last time I saw you, and if the war taught me anything, it was to pay attention to my dreams. That's why I came to visit again so soon. I felt like it had to mean something, and maybe- maybe if I came here I'd figure it out." Harry rubbed his face tiredly, looking at the unresponsive stone. "Maybe I'm going about this wrong," he muttered.

"Look," Harry addressed the stone once more, "I realized tonight that I'd never actually thanked you, for any of it. For trying to save my mother and father, for trying to repent, for trying to save Sirius." Harry cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the lump that had suddenly formed. "For protecting me," he said quietly. "I blamed you for things that weren't your fault, but I think you blamed yourself more. I don't blame you anymore, though, I haven't for a while. I'm sorry I ever did. So…I'm sorry for everything, and I'm grateful for everything you did. I hope wherever you are, you've finally found some peace."

Harry turned to go as the first rays of the sun began to climb over the horizon. He stopped after a few steps and turned to face the grave again. "We're naming him James, after my father. We weren't sure what his middle name should be, but I've had a few ideas."

Harry turned to go for a second time. He crossed the grounds again and, after on last glance at the castle that had been his home for so many years, apparated.

****

Three weeks later, James Severus Potter came screaming into the world.

Ron and Hermione came to St. Mungo's as soon as Harry had calmed down enough to contact them, towing their own offspring. Hermione was chattering excitedly, Ron pacing nervously and occasionally eyeing Harry accusingly, as if to condemn him for having to nerve to get his little sister into this situation. Harry seemed stunned: the nurses had thrown him out of the room, leaving him standing helplessly in the hallway. As soon as the crying began in the room, however, no spell could have prevented him from going through that door.

***

Harry visited Snape's grave several times a year as James grew up. This time, he appeared outside of the Hogwarts gate holding the hand of a dark-haired eleven-year-old.

"Daddy, why are we here? Term doesn't start for another three weeks." James pushed his glasses further up on his nose and squinted at his father.

"I know, James, but I wanted you to meet your namesake before you got to school. I didn't want everyone else to know more about you than you did…I've been there, it's not a good feeling." Harry put his arm around his son and led him across the grounds, towards the unadorned black headstone. It looked the same as it had eleven years ago, before James was born.

Letting go of his son's hand, Harry stepped forward. "Professor, this is my son James, James Severus Potter. He's named for you, and I wanted him to meet you, so that he could understand." Harry reached out a hand and beckoned James forward.

"James, this is the grave of Severus Snape, he was my potion's master, and headmaster of Hogwarts for a brief time. I want you to know, even though there will be talk, and many people believe that he was evil, that he was the bravest man I have ever met, and that he is the reason you're standing here today. It is an honor to bear his name; don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise."

James looked solemnly up at his father, "Can I talk to him?"

"Sure, son, I'll wait for you by the gates alright?" James nodded and Harry, after laying a hand on his shoulder, walked away towards the gate.

Waiting there, he watched his son place a hand on the gravestone and bow his head, talking quietly. Harry smiled as he looked at his son, already so grown up, and thought back to the night he had first felt him kick, eleven years before.

_...That's our boy_

_***_

**There it is my darling readers, number four. Sorry it took a bit longer, but I couldn't log in to post it. I hope you enjoyed it, as always I love to hear your responses, positive or otherwise.**

**To my lovely reviewers: thank you all so much, I really truly appreciate hearing form you. **

**To Cinderella912: that is an excellent point, and it is rather soon, but also you have to take into consideration the effect that war has on people. There is always a rise in young marriages and quick marriages during and after a time of fear. (also, Molly Weasley actually tells them in the books that her and Arthur were married young and not long after they had met.) Thank you for your input, again I love hearing from readers; it helps me to better myself as a writer as well as making me feel incredibly loved = ]**

**Until next week, 1rosebyanyothername**


	6. Chapter 6

**Um it's been a while so does that mean I need to repost a disclaimer? If so consider this disclaimed.**

SIX:

Harry trailed his hand down the long black stone, feeling the names engraved on it under his fingers as they brushed lightly over the bumps and ridges. He could hear each name as he touched it as though they were shouting at him.

_  
Vincent Crabbe, Rufus Scrimgeour , Bathilda Bagshot, Dobby the House Elf, Cedric Diggory, Colin Creevey, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Ted Tonks, Alastor Moody, Fred Weasley, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape… _

…_And countless others…_Names that shouldn't be there, that he would have died to keep off this giant black reminder of his guilt.

…_Rufus Scrimgeour , Bathilda Bagshot, Dobby the House Elf, Cedric Diggory, Colin Creevey, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Ted Tonks, Alastor Moody, Fred Weasley, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape… _

_  
His guilt_. He looked at his reflection in the shining black stone, his face cut into sections by the smooth writing that covered the memorial. His fingers traced the epitaph that adorned the top, above all the names. He couldn't see it. Couldn't read it. He knew it said something about the bravery and compassion and honor that these people had; that it spoke of the worthy lives they led, the meaning of their sacrifice. _Honor, Bravery, Meaning_. The words held no value for Harry. He was alive, and so many that he had loved were not. To his eyes, there was no honor in having died to save him, there was no glory after their deaths, there was no reason he could think of to justify their sacrifice, there was no _meaning. _

…_Bathilda Bagshot, Dobby the House Elf, Cedric Diggory, Colin Creevey, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Ted Tonks, Alastor Moody, Fred Weasley, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape… _

_  
Meaning. _There were only names; and the people who bore those names were already forgotten. The terror and love and fellowship that brought the world together against Voldemort was already no more then a faint feeling in the back of the mind. All that was left were the names. Lists of names of our beloved departed; our victorious dead.

…_Dobby the House Elf, Cedric Diggory, Colin Creevey, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Ted Tonks, Alastor Moody, Fred Weasley, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape… _

_  
Victorious Dead. _Some of the more old-fashioned wizards had said that in their toasts at the dedication service. _The Victorious Dead. _Why were they victorious? Where did they come out on top? Harry looked down at his hand, now clenched tightly into a fist, where it lay on top of the names of those he had not managed to save.

…_Cedric Diggory, Colin Creevey, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Ted Tonks, Alastor Moody, Fred Weasley, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape… _

_  
To save. _He remembered the congratulations, the adorations, the gratitude that he had received after he had defeated Voldemort. He hadn't felt that he deserved it then, either. He wanted to be left alone, to grieve, to remember. Ginny had helped him then. She had turned away from her grieving family, and her dead brother, taken Harry's hands in hers, looked into his tortured emerald eyes with her beautiful, understanding, tear-filled brown ones. "I know," she had said, before he could open his mouth to give voice to the anguish in his heart. "I know, and I'm not going to tell you that it's ok, because it's not; but it will be. It will be ok, and that's because of you, and what you did, and not a single one of them died for nothing, and not a single one of them would have blamed you."

…_Colin Creevey, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Ted Tonks, Alastor Moody, Fred Weasley, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape… _

_  
Blamed you_. He believed her, then, but it was harder when he was alone to remember the reassuring warmth of her hands in his, and the utter conviction in her eyes. It had been almost two years, and not a day went by that he didn't miss so many of the people whose lives were now commemorated in the granite. Harry unclenched his fist and laid his palm flat against the smooth surface of the stone. He could hear the feast beginning up at the castle and could picture Professor McGonagall welcoming the students to another year of learning. He remembered his first time in that hall as a terrified eleven-year-old. He had grown so much in those seven years, had lost so much.

…_Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Ted Tonks, Alastor Moody, Fred Weasley, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape…_

_  
Lost so much._ Harry heard rustling footsteps behind him as someone made their way quietly over the grass. He felt a comforting pressure in his hand as Ginny intertwined her fingers with his and looked up at him. "Don't do this to yourself, again," she said, "We've been through this so many times, Harry. Do you think they died so that you could torture yourself with their deaths when the world has gained so much from everything you've done? They died so that you could _live_, not so that you could drown yourself in self-pity. That's not living, Harry." She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest. Automatically, Harry put his arm around her and stroked her hair.

"I know," he whispered, "I'm sorry."

…_Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Ted Tonks, Alastor Moody, Fred Weasley, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape…_

_  
Sorry. _Ginny squeezed him tightly for a moment and then stepped back to look into his face again. "You need to remember the good things, the things that made them special, the things they did that made you feel special. That's what they would have wanted, not this." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him softly, "I'll be up at the castle when you're ready to go." Harry nodded and she squeezed his hand once more before beginning the walk back up to the castle. Harry watched her until she faded into the shadow of the castle, and then turned back to the stone. Taking a deep breath, he touched one of the names. _What made them special?_ _This_ one had taught him that he had a family in the wizarding world as well. _This_ one had helped him discover his inner strength when he was thirteen. _This_ one had shown him how to laugh at the little things when the big things threatened to crush you. _This_ one had terrified the pants off of him and taught him some of the most useful defensive magic he knew. They could never be forgotten.

…_Nymphadora Tonks, Ted Tonks, Alastor Moody, Fred Weasley, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape…_

_  
Forgotten_. Name after name. _This_ one he had met all of one time, but had a bond with. _This_ one he had given money to start his business, and had found a brother in him. Realization dawned as Harry remembered each person: they weren't forgotten. They weren't even gone. They lived inside the hearts of every survivor. They left behind lessons and words and feeling and touches that would never leave those who had known them.

…_Ted Tonks, Alastor Moody, Fred Weasley, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape…_

_  
Known them_. _This_ one had taught him everything he knew about girls. _This_ one Harry had taught in the D.A. _This_ one had been an annoyance. _This_ one had been someone else entirely than the person Harry had thought he was. _This_ one he had trusted implicitly. Every single one of them was different and special.

…_Alastor Moody, Fred Weasley, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape…_

_  
Special. This_ one had nearly knocked him off his broom when they played quidditch. _This_ one had also stolen his girl. _This_ one he didn't like. _This_ one had tried to kill him. That last thought made him chuckle; Ron would think he was as crazy as Luna if he started pining for Crabbe. He wasn't angry, though, and he sure as hell wasn't glad he was dead.

…_Fred Weasley, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape…_

_  
Dead_. Yes, they were dead; but he wasn't. And neither were Ginny, or Ron, or Hermione, or Little Teddy, or Luna, or Neville, or George, Percy, Bill, Charlie, Arthur, and Molly. Hagrid was still with him; hell he even saw Dudley occasionally. He wasn't alone.

…_Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape…_

_  
Alone_. No, he wasn't alone. _Far from it, actually_, Harry thought as he felt the ring in his pocket and glanced for a second in the direction that Ginny had gone. He was alive, and he was in love, and those people whose names were on that stone were with him, still. He would miss them for the rest of his life, but he would not longer waste his life grieving for them. He would live for them. His eyes burned as he touched the last name on the stone. _This_ one was the reason he was alive. _This_ one had died to save him for the woman he had loved. _This_ one was the bravest and most unfathomable man he had ever met. _This_ one he had never truly known, for all that he had sacrifice everything to make him safe. Harry would live for _this_ man; he hoped that if he ever had children, they would be half as selfless and courageous as he had been. Harry touched the last name on the list, whispered "Thank you," and turned away towards the castle and the life that awaited him.

…_Severus Snape…_

*******

**  
A/N: **hey all, I'm sorry I let the fic slip for so long, it's been a crazy few months but that's no excuse. I tried to make it a little longer to make up for it.

This one was a little different; I was super depressed when I started it so that might explain it a bit. Anyway I hope you liked it, let me know if you did. For that matter let me know if you didn't. I sosososo appreciate constructive criticism (as long as it's not nasty in the delivery).

I'm going to try to have one up every week (I can't promise which day) from now until school starts, but don't be angry if I can't manage it.

Love as always,

1rosebyanyothername


	7. Chapter 7

**I really need to stop making promises I can't keep. I find I must apologize once again for my lateness, in the hopes that you, my wonderful readers, as students and workers yourself will understand and commiserate. It's shorter than last time, but I like it better. Also, though I posted earlier that I would no longer add disclaimers, I am too type A to ignore it so I must add that I am not the owner of the wonderful world of Harry Potter. **

**Enjoy.**

SEVEN:

Kings Cross Station.

It was so strange that the year should end here. So weirdly normal.

Getting off the train, it was as though they were getting home from any other normal year at school.

Except it wasn't.

The girls had slept on the train, exhausted from the ordeals of the last few months. Ginny had stretched out on the seats with her head in Harry's lap, but Hermione had been unable to relax, clutching Ron's hand so tightly that her knuckles were white. Ron had let her, until she couldn't fight sleep any longer and fell asleep with her head on Ron's shoulder.

The boys had talked in whispers, pausing for long intervals to sit in silence. Harry dozed for a while, but kept being woken by flashes of memory from the night. Mostly he watched Ginny sleep, stroking her fiery hair and wondering if he would ever be able to sleep that peacefully again.

He couldn't close his eyes without seeing Colin Creevey's small form being laid out in the great hall, or Fred's laughing face, frozen that way, never to laugh again. _No_, he thought, _they didn't die for nothing, we won, it's over_. _It's over. _He repeated to himself, but he couldn't really believe it, he'd been living in Voldemort's shadow for too long.

Ron gazed out the window at the passing landscape, glancing at Harry every once in a while.

"What are you going to do now, mate?" he asked suddenly.

"I dunno," Harry replied, "I guess we still have one more year of school to finish, don't we?" Ron chuckled quietly.

"Yeah, we do," he said, "Weird, isn't it? I hadn't even thought about it." He looked at Ginny and then back at Harry. "We could finish up school with Gin, she's got one more year, too." Harry smiled at that.

"That would be nice." Ron chuckled again.

"And then what?"

"Who knows?" Harry answered, and then he smiled suddenly. "I don't know, Ron!" Ron looked at him questioningly.

"Yeah?" Harry continued to smile.

"Don't you see? I don't have some prophecy to fulfill anymore. I don't know what's going to happen! No one knows! I can decide what's going to happen to me!" Ron smiled at his friend in sudden understanding.

"You're right, mate," he said happily, grinning at the look of wonder on Harry's face. "You're free."

"Free." Harry repeated, relishing the sound of the word. "I'm free."

They had stopped talking for a while after that. Harry sat reflecting happily on his newly realized freedom, making plans, most of which included Ginny, and delighting in the fact that he could change them if he wished.

Ron held Hermione's hand and watched the wild countryside become tame and civilized as they drew nearer to their destination, making plans of his own.

The boys woke up Ginny and Hermione as the train pulled into the station. The four of them retrieved their belongings from the storage racks and began the usual ordeal of pushing their way into the corridor to join the throng of students struggling for the exits.

Harry let himself be pulled by the tide of motion, staring out the window onto the platform.

Ron's parents had gone home to take care of the rest of the family and make arrangements for Fred, but they were waiting there now, with Bill, Charlie, Percy, George, and the rest of the order, to welcome their children home.

There was no family for Harry: the Dursleys hadn't been taken out of hiding yet, not that they would have come if they had.

It was like any other year, getting off the train and seeing them there waiting for them.

It was so strange.

Except it wasn't.

It was so _right_. So right that the people who loved them were waiting anxiously for there return. So comforting that they loved him still, after everything that had happened.

Harry smiled as he, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny got off the train and were immediately engulfed in hugs from Mrs. Weasley, and Ginny and Ron were lost from sight for a moment as their brothers converged on them; and then Harry's hand was being shaken by all of the Weasley men and Hermione was passed from embrace to embrace until Ron finally dragged George off of her and hugged her himself.

There was sadness there, from the recent loss and pain that had affected them all, but there was joy there, too, and the wonderful lightness that comes from the knowledge of being free from fear and uncertainty. It was a joyful reunion, the grief that mixed with it making it clearer and more pronounced rather then clouding it as they were welcomed back.

When, finally, they were ready to go. Harry took Ginny's hand and they walked together through the barrier into the world, surrounded by the people they loved.

_Freedom_, Harry thought, _was a wonderful thing_.

***

**I hope you liked it, let me know if you did, let me know if you didn't. As always I cherish opinions of any sort. Hopefully I will repost soon.**

**to Dark Avarice: Haha I actually do agree with you and you inpisred me to work on one that has no Hugo, hopefully that will be the next one I post. Thanks for the opinion, I hope you continue to read.  
**

**Until next time,**

**1rosebyanyothername**


	8. Chapter 8

Hi all. I know its been a while, but I do intend to finish these eventually. I want to thank you all for your patience with me as I get them out. I also want to say good luck and have fun at the premier. I know I'll be there at midnight in tears, saying goodbye to my childhood. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the epilogue. I'd like to think of this particular collection is my way of saying goodbye and showing my appreciation.

* * *

EIGHT:

Harry Potter stood in the familiar station staring up at the big plastic numbers nine and ten that hung above the train platform. He watched the streams of people flowing in opposite directions as people boarded and disembarked. The busyness of the station was exactly the way it had been twenty-six years ago when had stood in that very spot for the first time. It was so odd to think of how much had changed since then. Change that was in many ways sad, but most of it changes for the better. _Change for the wonderful_, Harry thought as he pictured his wife and his growing family. But here, in King's Cross looking at the barrier between platforms nine and ten, and watching the almost imperceptible flow of people appearing and disappearing, it was easy to imagine that no time had passed at all. For a moment, he was eleven years old again, lost and bewildered and terrified that he had imagined Hagrid's visit and Diagon Alley. He felt again the rush of relief that had coursed through him when he had run into the Weasley's and realized they were wizards. Harry smiled at the memory. He could almost hear Mrs. Weasley's voice saying

_"- Packed with Muggles, of course -"_ Harry swung round. Ginny stood behind him smiling. "Of course, it always is. Hello dear." She kissed him and handed him the red-haired infant in her arms. "Take Fred, I have to go and rescue Brian and Severus from their sister. James should be along soon. He's unloading the rest of the trunks from the car."

Harry laughed and took the baby. "Go. Save the boys from Lily's wrath." Ginny laughed and walked back the way she had come. The crisp autumn sun reflected off her hair and gave her a halo that matched the golden reds of the leaves that were beginning to fall; the same color of the downy fuzz that covered the head of his nine month old.

Harry pressed his lips against Fred's head and remembered the day he was born. They were going to name him Oliver, but when he was born with that shock of red hair and Mrs. Weasley had tearfully announced that he looked exactly like Fred and George as babies there hadn't been a choice. He had become Frederic Oliver Potter, another reminder of the love lost in the war, and of the love joy and wonder that still existed in the world.

It sometimes made him sad that every one of his many children bore the name of a loved one that had been lost in the war, and there were still so many names that would never be given a second chance.

He and Ginny, when she was pregnant with James, had decided that, of course, their first-born boy would be named after Harry's father. Then, because Ginny was prone to fits of morning sickness around five am, so neither of them slept much when she was expecting, they had stayed up together and begun to find names for the other children they planned to have. Ginny insisted that there would be one girl, because in her eyes that was the only way it could be, and that she would be named Lily (Harry had kissed her with tears in his eyes, and loved her all the more for it), and that they would have to name one after Dumbledore, because not to do so would be unthinkable. Her only reservation, and Harry had laughed at her for this, was that she would feel terribly guilty about saddling any child with the name Albus.

It was Harry who had come up with the solution: Dumbledore, he pointed out, had been given more names than any man should know what to do with. They could, he reassured his wife, pick any one of those names and still honor him just as greatly. Ginny had been very pleased with this and, discarding Wulfric on principal and Percival because one Percy with Weasley blood was more than enough for any lifetime, chose Brian for her second son.

It was Harry who, when Brian's birth was closely followed by an unexpected fourth pregnancy, insisted that this child be named for Snape. Ginny had resisted at first. She had never quite forgiven Snape for his role in events, though Harry had long ago come to terms with his old professor's actions. He remembered that argument clearly. It had, like many of their discussions, occurred in the early hours of the morning, when Brian was awake in Harry's care and Ginny was indisposed with stomach trouble.

"_I know you've forgiven him, Harry," she shouted through the door, "but I haven't, and I know this is your son too, but I'm the one throwing up every morning because of him, and I think that gives me just a little more say in these kind of matters!" _

_Harry had laughed despite himself, but was not swayed. Still holding the baby, he went into the bathroom where Ginny was sitting on the rug, looking cross in that terrifying way that only she could manage._

_Her husband fought the natural instinct that always rose up in him when confronted with that face, which was to run away as fast as he possibly could and not to return unless it was with chocolate, and shut the door behind him. Holding Brian as a barrier to his mother's wrath, he sat on the edge of the tub behind her and stroked her hair with his free hand until she gave in and leaned her head against his knee. _

"_I know it's hard, Ginny, but Snape saved my life so many times over. He tried to save my parents. And we know now that Dumbledore was already dying when Snape killed him. Dumbledore chose to sacrifice himself to save Snape and Draco rather than to deteriorate." Ginny harrumphed and shook her head against his knee, but didn't move away, and Harry took this as a sign that he was making progress. _

"_C'mon, Gin, this is important to me. He wasn't a good man, but he spent his life trying to redeem himself, and he died doing the right thing. He deserves to be remembered that way. I owe that to him." _

_Ginny sighed and intertwined her fingers with the hand that was in her hair. Pulling it towards her so she could kiss his palm, " you're too good, Harry. Even after all this time you're still so damn _noble_." She grimaced at him, "But I knew what I was getting into when I married you. It's even one of the reasons I fell in love with you, annoying as it is." Harry laughed and helped her get up from the bathroom floor. She kissed him and took Brian from him as he stood. "Get some sleep, I'll take Brian and wake you when _Severus_ decides to play football with my stomach again." Harry smiled broadly at the name. He leaned in and kissed her long enough to illicit protests from the infant in her arms, and then rested his forehead against hers. "Thank you." He said. Ginny looked at him and shrugged. "I love you." She said it as though it was the most obvious reason in the world, and, he realized, for her it was. _

Harry smiled at the memory as he was once again brought back to the sunlit train station by the clattering ruckus that announced the arrival of his eldest son with the luggage. James was now fourteen, and the spitting image of his father. He greeted Harry with a nod. " Hey, dad."

"Hey, James. You ready to go?"

The boy looked at the pile of luggage on the trolley. "As long as I can find my trunk and Hester's cage under all of Lily's rubbish," he said.

Harry tousled his son's already messy hair. "You can't blame her for wanting to bring a lot," he said, "It's her first year. She'll get better. Besides," he added conspiratorially, "I'll bet half of those are filled with treats from your mother that Lily might just share with her big brother."

James grinned. "Alright. As long as she doesn't try to take Fred," Harry laughed, but James' face remained serious. "I'm not kidding, dad, I saw her eyeing him in the car. You want to hold on to him until she's safely away."

Still trying to restrain his laughter, Harry nodded sagely at his son. "I'll keep an eye on her, James, I promise." James nodded, satisfied, and began to shift the balance of the trunks on the trolley. A shout rang out at him to be careful as Lily, eleven years old with brown hair and her mother's eyes, ran up trailing a pouting Brian, now an auburn haired six year old. Ginny followed at a more sedate pace, holding the hand of similarly pouting five year old Severus who took after his father and oldest brother in looks, but shared Ginny's eyes. She had been joined by a grinning Ron and a worried looking Hermione along with their two children, the oldest of whom, Rose, would be starting school with Lily that year.

"Alright, Harry?" Ron called out, "This rabble not getting to be to much for you?" Ginny swatted her brother, who laughed and caught her in a one-arm hug. "Only joking, sis, you know I love everyone of these monsters, and from the looks of things we'll catch up with you pretty soon." If it was possible, his grinned stretched wider, and Hermione blushed pink, though she looked pleased.

Harry stared from one to the other in confusion until Ginny's delighted squeal of "Congratulations! Oh Hermione you must be so _happy!_" drove home the piece that he had been missing.

He cocked an eyebrow at Ron, who was now grinning so widely Harry was afraid the top of his head might fall off. "Really?"

Ron nodded proudly. "Almost two months along now."

Harry punched him on the arm. "Good on you mate, congratulations!"

"Thanks, mate"

Harry turned and hugged Hermione tightly, "and you too, congratulations, I'm really happy for you."

"Thank you, Harry" Hermione said a little breathlessly. "We're really very happy."

The conversation was stopped from progressing by James, who had been watching the goings on with growing impatience. "Great, Uncle Ron, Aunt Hermione, I'm quite happy for you, but can we please _go_? The trains due to leave in ten minutes!"

Ron nudged his nephew "Sorry, mate, forgot about you lot for a minute. Go on then."

Shaking his head in frustration at the irresponsibility of grown-ups, James pushed the trolley through the barrier. Lily and Rose followed him together, and then went Ginny and the boys, and Hermione and her son Hugo. Ron tipped a wink at Harry before following his wife through, and Harry went after last, still holding Fred.

As he came through onto the platform, he saw his whole family standing together laughing, full of love and joy and hope. And as he put his son on the train for his fourth year, and kissed his daughter goodbye for the first time, he knew that this was more happiness than he could ever have hoped for.

In his lifetime he had been the unwanted nephew, The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One, Undesirable Number One, and the boy who defeated Voldemort, but none of those labels defined him more in his mind than Father, and Husband.

Ginny took his hand as they led their three youngest back out into the world, and he was home.

Harry brought his other hand to his forehead, and touched the scar that had not hurt in nineteen years. _All was well_, he thought.

_All was well._


	9. Chapter 9

Hello all. I hope all of you loyal Harry Potter fans enjoyed the movie. I know I cried like a baby the entire second half. As someone who grew up with our favorite trio I felt like this was almost a marker of the official end of my childhood. Hence the utter denial that led to me to do the unthinkable and update one of my stories twice in the same week. hopefully the trend continues, if not at the same rate than at least not as slowly as before. As always, I unfortunately do not own the lovely world of Harry Potter, and I am eternally grateful to everyone who has taken the time to read what I write.

Enjoy.

* * *

NINE:

The last rays of the late afternoon sun shone out golden over the little yard. Fireflies buzzed over the heads of five small children as they leapt about madly with jars trying to catch the elusive insects. Harry leaned against the doorframe and listened to the gleeful screams of his children and niece and nephew. He always loved watching them play. They were completely without fear, as children should be. For the first time in years, a generation of children was being raised without a shadow of doubt and fear hanging over them.

"Nice, isn't it"

Harry turned to look at Ron, who nodded towards the kids. "Them, with their yelling and running and all the other noisy stuff kids do that drives us crazy."

Harry smiled at his friend. "You mean it's nice that their noisy and high pitched enough to get the attention of every dog in the neighborhood?"

Ron elbowed him. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do."

"You know, you did that."

Harry shook his head "_We_ did that Ron." He said. "You and me and Hermione; and Neville and Luna, and Fred and Mad-eye and Remus and Tonks and Dumbeldore." Harry paused for a moment and then exhaled slowly. "And Snape."

Ron glanced sideways at Harry. He knew better than anyone what his best friend had gone through after that final battle at Hogwarts. Not just dealing with the rush of people who wanted him to relive those final moment over and over again, or the reporters who were willing to do just about anything to get a piece of him (he still winced thinking of what Ginny had done to one of them who had gotten just a little too close), or, hardest of all, the families of people who had died. Those were the worst, especially because none of them blamed Harry, when all Harry really wanted, Ron knew, was for someone to yell at him, to ask him why, to demand an explanation. He could see Harry coming apart inside as crying mothers thanked him over the bodies of their children. But as bad as they had been, Harry had kept it together, only showing how much it hurt when it was just the four of them: Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. But when they had buried Snape, and no one but the Weasleys and Harry had come. Ron had seen Harry lose it. Hermione had seen it too, and the two of them had quietly taken him out and held him while sobs wracked his exhausted frame. They alone knew what Harry had seen in the Pensieve, so they alone understood the guilt and sorrow that was eating him up. It had been thirteen years, and Ron could still sometimes see that same guilt and sorrow in his best friend.

Ron looked at him again. Harry was looking at his hands; he seemed to have faded slightly. Ron nudged him.

"Yeah mate. You're right. We all built this. But you led us to the point where we could, and that's something to be proud of." Harry nodded wordlessly. Ron persevered. "_Listen _to them Harry. You can't regret any of the actions you took that made it possible for our kids to be that free. Snape protected you so you could make sure it happened. He wanted this. They all wanted this; and not one of them would want you to feel guilty. Honor their memory by raising your kids the best way you know how and by telling them about all of the brave people who fought. Ok?"

Harry looked up at Ron and grinned. "When did you get so brilliant, Ron?"

Ron shrugged. "It's being married to Hermione that does it, she's so smart something's bound to rub off, isn't it?"

Harry laughed. "That must be it. Thanks Ron."

Ron nodded and gave his friend a quick one-armed hug. "That's what I'm here for."

The two men stood and watched their children play until the sun went down and Ginny's voice floated downstairs announcing bedtime. Harry and Ron collected still empty jars and muddy shoes at the door and herded the still squealing children upstairs for baths. When they had been safely passed off to Ginny and Hermione, scrubbed and dried and wriggled into pajamas, Harry ushered them into the cozy room full of big stuffed animals and comfy chairs that Ginny had insisted on designating as the story room as soon as they had found out she was first pregnant with Lily.

He sat in one of the chairs and gathered them around him, his youngest son sitting on his lap and his niece and daughter squished together on Ron's. The other two were curled up with Ginny and Hermione on the one long couch.

Harry looked around him at his family, all of them safe and happy in a world where those feelings weren't fleeting treasures. He felt complete serenity flowing into him as he looked at the drowsy eyes of his children (of all of them only Lily had inherited the brilliant green eyes of her namesake).

"Alright you lot," he said. Tickling Sirius so the boy squirmed and giggled and Ginny admonished him for riling him up before bed. "Since it's a special occasion and your uncle and aunt are letting you all spend the night, I have a special story to tell you."

The children sat up a little straighter in anticipation.

"It's a very important story, " Harry went on, "and every word of it is true. Tonight, I'm going to tell you the story of one of the bravest, most loyal men I have ever known. His name was Severus Snape, and he's the reason I'm sitting here right now…"


	10. Chapter 10

We made it! Number 10! Only five more to go. I hope you've had as much fun as I have. If you have any requests, I'll try and accomodate them. Otherwise, let me know what you think.

Enjoy!

* * *

TEN:

"No I _won't!_" the shout was accompanied by a thump and then a cry of "_Mummy!"_

Ginny sighed and followed the noise into the next room where her children were supposed to be signing Christmas cards.

"Mummy!" Lily pointed at her brother accusingly, her small pointed face scrunched up with all the righteous indignation her skinny twelve-year-old body could muster. "_Severus_ threw a _book_ at me! He _threw_ a book at _me_!" She looked at her mother expectantly. Ginny looked from her daughter to her trembling son. Severus was almost eleven, and due to start Hogwarts in the fall. He was small for his age, a fact that often caused her to worry – though Harry tried to reassure her that he was fine – and had taken after her in coloring, though he had his father's eyes.

He looked at his mother pleadingly. "I only did it because Lily was being nasty again."

Ginny raised an eyebrow at her daughter, who huffed with injured pride. "I never did. He's telling stories"

Severus leapt to his feet in fury, all fear of his mother forgotten. "Am _not_! You said – mummy she said – she said that I shouldn't bother going to Hogwarts because I was going to be in Slytherin!"

Lily opened her mouth, but the boy pressed on. "She said that everyone said I was going to be evil, because Snape was evil, because everyone said so, and everyone would hate me if I went to school, and you would hate me because I was in Slytherin because I was evil because of my name!" Severus was crying now, and the fact that his sister could see it only increased his anger. Ginny caught him as he leapt at Lily and wrapped her arms around him. He buried his face in his mother's shirt so they couldn't see his tears.

"Lily?" Ginny looked at her daughter again.

Lily's brown eyes filled and tears caught on her thick fringe of lashes, making her eyes look like they were rimmed with crystals. "I didn't _mean_ it, mummy, I was just saying what everyone else said. Everyone at school says Severus Snape was evil and that anyone with his name is going to be in Slytherin. They all said it mummy."

"So you decided it would be good fun to torture Sev with it?" Ginny's eldest son James sat in the corner of the room in the large chair. Ginny, caught up in the row between her two younger children, hadn't realized he was in the room until he spoke. Lily glared at her brother, her thoughts about his getting involved clear on her face.

"James," Ginny said warningly.

James shrugged. He was fifteen and entirely his father's son, though with a tendency toward quietness and introspection that, Ginny reflected, would not have gone amiss in Harry. Ginny loved all of her children to distraction, but she often sought out James when she was in need of quiet company and refuge from the constant squabbling of Lily and Severus. Moreover, she thought as the looked at her son, there was not a malicious bone in his body, and he never got involved in his sibling's arguments unless he truly thought there was something that needed to be said.

Ginny sighed. "Alright, James, out with it."

James glanced at his sister, who was still glaring at him, and then looked back at his mother. "C'mon, mum, you know how people talk. They've always talked, and they always will, especially about this family. You know that, I know that, and _Lily_ knows that. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she shouldn't get out of trouble just because she cries and bats those big brown eyes at you. _But – " _He held up a hand to silence his sister, who had opened her mouth to protest. "_But, _she also can't be punished for believing what she hears if she's never been told otherwise. You told me about them when I was Sev's age, and we all know I was named for dad's dad, and Lily was his mum, but you never told them were Sev got his name, or where any of our middle names come from. If I was old enough, I think they're old enough."

The lanky fifteen year old looked at his mother and shrugged again, signaling that he had said his piece. Without another word, he settled back into his armchair, pushed his glasses further up on his nose, and reopened his book.

Ginny walked over to her son and kissed the top of his head. "When did you get so grown up?" She asked.

He smiled up at her briefly. "Maybe it's a fluke."

Ginny laughed and mussed his hair, and then turned back to her daughter, who was watching her with trepidation.

"Mummy I – "

Ginny raised a finger for silence. "Severus, you know better than to throw things, and it's never ok to try to hurt anyone, no matter how angry you are. Lily, beyond antagonizing your brother, which is never ok, James is right; you know better than to bring the hateful things people say into this house. You're both grounded until I decide you've learned your lessons."

Severus nodded, and dragged a sleeve across his tear-reddened eyes. Lily opened her mouth as if to protest, but appeared to think better of it and lowered her eyes to the ground.

"Yes, mummy"

Ginny sighed. "Alright, that's enough of that. Back to your Christmas cards, and when your father gets home we'll all have a talk."

"What are we talking about?" Harry came into the room, holding his glasses in one hand and rubbing his eyes with the other. There was a slight indentation on the bridge of his nose where his glasses had been, and his thick black hair was even more unruly than usual.

Severus ran to his father with a cry of "Daddy!" and threw his arms around Harry's waist. Harry replaced his glasses and returned the hug, chuckling.

"Hey Sev." Once Severus had disentangled himself, Harry crossed the room to where Ginny and Lily still sat. She gave him a look that was a mix of concern and exasperation, but also full of the love that always rushed through her when she saw her husband. Harry bent down to kiss his wife and she brushed her fingers through the side of his hair.

"Rough day?"

He grimaced "No rougher than usual. It looks like I missed a ruckus here, though. What am I supposed to be talking to our children about?" He plated a kiss on the top of Lily's head and tipped a wink at James, who was still in his chair.

Ginny sighed. "Lil's been repeated nasty rumors from school, Rumors about Sev and his namesake. She quite upset her brother."

Harry frowned. "Lily?"

His daughter looked at the floor. "I'm sorry daddy."

Ginny put an arm around her. "We've talked about it, and punishments have been doled out, but James made a good point. They can't be expected to know better if we don't tell them. They're old enough now to hear the stories"

Harry raised an eyebrow at his son. James returned the look with an eyebrow of his own. Harry grinned at him. "Alright." Severus looked up excitedly.

Harry rubbed his chin. "Well, I suppose now is a good a time as any, and we've got some time before supper. Let's have a story."

James moved to a cushion on the floor next to his siblings so that his father could take the large chair. Harry looked at his children as he settled himself.

James Albus Potter, his first-born, so like him in so many ways, and so different in others; Lily Dora Potter, his beautiful little girl, with a temper as fierce as Ginny's when she was riled; and Severus Colin Potter, his youngest son who seemed so timid but was so full of fire. He was so proud of all of them. They were the reason the war was fought; so he and Ginny, and Ron and Hermione, and everyone else who fought could raise their children in peace and love. Each of them bore the names of two of the people who had died for their cause, and Severus, Harry knew, had everything it took to be every bit as courageous as his namesake.

Ginny was right, Harry thought as the look at the expectant faces of his children gathered around him. They were old enough to know the truth, and to learn about the heroes whose names they carried.

"Well then," Harry said, "Let's start with the oldest."


	11. Chapter 11

Ok, I'll admit it, I had a bit of fun with this one. don't judge, just join in the amusement that is parallelism (it's very late here, so I may not be making much sense, but there you go). I have to say that I am very impressed with the speed with which I have been updating, and I hope that you all appreciate it (especially those who know just how long I can take between posts). What's more, I hope you share your appreciation by reviewing ;). Alright, that may have been a bit much, I'm done fishing now.

Here we go, number 11

Enjoy

* * *

ELEVEN:

Mr. and Mrs. Potter of Number 12, Grimauld Place were proud to say that they were perfectly normal thank you very much.

Mr. Harry Potter held a steady job as head of the Aurors office in the ministry of magic, and Mrs. Ginny Potter worked with her brother George as a co-owner of the joke shop Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

All of their children were precocious little things and had started showing signs of magical talent at quite early ages (a fact which Harry often said was due to their mother's incredible talent and power), and each of them received their letter from Hogwarts in their turn. They had three boys and a girl, and if you asked them there were no finer children anywhere.

Every Sunday they had tea at the Burrow with their extended family, which included Ginny's Parents, Ron and Hermione Weasley with their two children Rose and Oliver, George Weasley and his live-in girlfriend, Bill and Fleur and their daughter Victiore, Percy and Charlie Weasley, Teddy Lupin, and really whoever else happened to feel like a nice meal with friends.

Every Saturday, Harry played on a recreational quidditch team with George and Ron (he had had offers from his friend Oliver Wood, who was now captain of Puddlemere United, to come and play professionally, but he always declined with his thanks). Their team was quite good, and often won in the local matches that were held monthly for the teams in the area.

Every year, when school came to an end, a large gathering was always held at the Potter's to welcome all of the children home, and to give them an opportunity to tell everyone their exciting stories from the year at once.

For the Weasley-Potter family, this gathering also marked the approximate anniversary of the day that Voldemort had been defeated and reconstruction had began. To this end, there was always a point in the party when the group, as if by some invisible signal, gathered in the sitting room to listen to Harry tell the story of all the brave men and women to had fought and died for their cause.

He always began the same way: "Today, we celebrate the safe and happy return of our children from school, and honor those who made it possible for them to go and return safely each year."

After that, however, his story would vary depending on what had been on his mind recently. He would often start with his parents and all of the people in the original order like Neville's parents, and the people who had not only been in the original order, but who had also kept fighting long enough to see the second order formed, like Ron's parents, and Moody, and Sirius and Lupin, and Dumbledore.

He would talk about the people who weren't old enough to be in the order the first time around, or were kept out for some other reason, but had fought fiercely as members of the second (here Tonks was mentioned, and Fred Weasley, and Dobby the House Elf).

Harry would often have to stop because of sobs caught in his throat when he told these stories, and his eyes always filled with tears when he spoke of the children, for that's what they were then, who had stood behind him. The young people who had been his support system: Dumbledore's Army. Thankfully, many of them had survived the battle and were present at the yearly gatherings, but some weren't, and it was for them that Harry cried.

Last, always last, no matter what order the others had been mentioned or which events Harry had spoken of that night, was Severus Snape.

Snape's was a story that every child in that huge family knew. They had been told since the day they were born of the bravery of this man. Each one knew how this man, the man who had been Lily Evans's best friend, and her son's most fervent protector, had worked as an agent of the order in the highest levels of the dark lord's confidence's.

Every child knew that Severus Snape was the biggest reasons Harry was with them now, and every time any member of the family went to the cemetery where all of the heroes of the war were buried to pay their respects to their family and friends, they left a small token of their thanks on the small, unadorned grave of Severus Snape.

Harry always ended the same way: he would raise his glass, close his eyes for a moment, and then say simply "to them." "To them," the family would echo, and there would be silence for a brief time as each person sat with their thoughts.

Then, as can only be expected, the children would begin to squirm and whisper and eventually run off to play in different parts of the house, the adults would smile at the energy of the young, and the mood would once again be festive.

The party would go on late into the night until one by one the guest trickled out the door and it was only Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione sitting around the table, their children sent upstairs to wash and go to bed.

The four friends would sit up late into the night talking about trivial matters and reminiscing about their earlier years until Ron would yawn loudly, Hermione would swat him for being rude, and Harry, laughing, would say that it was about time they were all getting some sleep.

On that note, Ron and Hermione would depart with hugs and kisses and promises to return tomorrow to retrieve their children and to stay for breakfast when they did.

Once their friends had left, Harry and Ginny would go upstairs, leaving the washing up for tomorrow when Kreacher was around to help.

Before they went to sleep, they made the rounds of their children's rooms, shutting reading lights, arranging covers, and kissing foreheads. Then the Potters, Mr. and Mrs., went to bed.

* * *

Harry sat up awake after Ginny's breathing had quieted and looked at his wife. He touched a piece of her fiery red hair that stood out sharply against the whiteness of the sheets. She muttered something in her sleep and rolled over, snuggling against him.

Harry put his arm around his wife and smiled. This was what he had fought for: his wonderfully predictable life with a few lovely surprises thrown in just to keep things interesting.

He closed his eyes, content, and fell asleep.

* * *

Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Potter were perfectly normal, and happy to be so.


	12. Chapter 12

Alrighty then. this is 12, and I'm coming dangerously close to actually finishing a story that has more than one chapter. I don't even know who I am anymore. I, personally, love this one. But I guess I'm it's mother, so I have to.

Also, I had a quite funny but completely irrelevant thought today. So, naturally, I have to share it with you. I was realizing today that, despite the fact that the movies (which I love) have permanently affected the way we think of the characters whether we want them to or not, and the fact that Dan (who I also love, but not as much as Rupert) is 5 foot 5 and therefore actually shorter than Bonnie Wright, every single fan resolutely clings to J.K.'s lovely description of Harry being tall. In fact, I dare you to find one fic that doesn't depict Harry as being at least tall enough for Ginny to rest her head against his chest when she hugs him. Just saying. - I thought it was funny, at any rate.

annnnndd now that you have suffered through my inane babble for long enough, I hope that you will find much less to be annoyed about in my actual writing.

as always, thank you so much.

Enjoy.

* * *

TWELVE

"Harry come _on!_" Hermione shoved him forward as Ron appeared with a sharp _crack _beside them.

"I'm going, I'm going!" Harry grumbled. He looked over his shoulder to see that his friends had stopped and Hermione was fussing over Ron's collar and the fact that his hair wasn't combed. Harry rolled his eyes. "_Now_ who's holding us up, Hermione?"

Hermione continued to finger comb Ron's hair so that it lay more neatly. "Oh hush, Harry. You're just upset because you don't like parties where people look at you."

Ron snorted. "So you mean he just doesn't like parties?" Harry aimed a half-hearted punch at his friend and Hermione made an impatient noise at Ron for moving.

Ron gave Harry a long-suffering look over Hermione's shoulder. "You see what I have to deal with?" Hermione swatted him, then brushed his hair away from his forehead one final time and gave him a quick kiss. Ron grinned, "Ok, so maybe it's not all bad"

Hermione reddened and smiled.

Harry looked at the sky in exasperation. "Can we go _now_?" he asked, "or do I need to give you two some time?"

Hermione's blushed deepened, but Ron only grinned wider. "As a matter of fact, mate, you could give us just a few –" He was cut off by Harry grabbing the front of his shirt (which made Hermione sigh and mutter that she had _just_ gotten the collar to lie properly) and yanking him forward.

"Alright, alright," Ron said struggling out of Harry grip and straightening his shirt, "let's get on with it."

The two boys sighed and followed Hermione as she walked purposefully towards the Burrow.

The lawn in front of the house was as much transformed as it had been for Bill and Fleur's wedding.

A giant open-air platform that held a band and a large space for dancing covered most of the grass. Floating awnings, each of which housed a different kind of food or dessert and several tables, surrounded it, and there was a long table at the end of the platform that was covered in every kind of drink imaginable.

The air was thick with fireworks from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and, when night fell, small sparkling lights that floated freely over the party.

The space was dazzling, and packed with so many people that groups of them were spilling out onto the undecorated lawn beyond the awnings.

Harry stood rooted to the spot, staring openmouthed at the crowd. Ron looked too, shaking his head sympathetically.

"You know, mate," he said, "It's not too late to go into hiding."

Harry cracked a small smile. "Can we?"

"_No_!" Hermione shoved both boys forward, and they stumbled together into the nearest awning.

"Oy!' Ron started huffily, but his attention was quickly diverted. "Wow! Look at the _food!_" All troubles forgotten, he made a beeline for the table and began filling his plate.

Hermione shook her head in fond exasperation, and her and Harry made their way to an empty table to sit.

The moment of silence didn't last, however.

As soon as Harry and Hermione sat down, a low susurration had begun to spread in ripples from the awning they were in and widened across the entire party.

Harry pretended not to notice the whispering until he could no longer reasonably ignore it.

Hermione, who had grabbed his hand under the table the moment she had notice the whispered "_He's here_!" being passed outward through the crowd, squeezed his hand once and then pulled him up and towards the main stage where Mrs. Weasley was looking around in agitation.

She caught sight of them and beckoned.

Hermione led Harry towards her, catching Ron's eye and motioning with her head that he should join them.

Mrs. Weasley hugged them absentmindedly. "Hello, dears. Harry, how are you? I'm so sorry about this, but people seem to want to hear you talk, you don't have to, of course, but they _do_ seem to need to hear something. They all want to see you, dear. Would you mind terribly saying something? Just for a moment." She looked so distressed that Harry felt his heart go out to her.

"It's ok, Mrs. Weasley," He said, sighing, "I'll say something." He took out his wand and looked at Ron and Hermione, who nodded encouragingly, and then ascended the platform and stood in the middle of the stage in front of the now silent band.

Pointing his wand at his throat he said "Sonorus."

He looked out at the crowd of silent expectant faces, and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Hello," he said opening them again. His voice echoed loudly over the gathering. "Er, thanks, I guess, for being here. I appreciate your support. Um."

Harry stopped talking and closed his eyes again. "Listen," he said, "you don't need to here me talk. You just need to do exactly what you're doing. You need to celebrate. You need to look at the people around you and be thankful that they're there and that you are all safe. But," He held up a hand as someone started to cheer. "You don't need to be thankful to me. You need to remember the people who gave their lives to help make sure we could all be safe. Remember them, mourn them, and celebrate that they didn't give their lives in vain. Remember them every day, take the time to cry for them, but tonight, just celebrate their lives, and your lives, and the lifetime of peace that is possible for us now"

Harry cleared his throat. "So. Yeah," he finished lamely, "I guess that's it. Thanks. Have a good night."

He pointed his wand at his throat again and said "Quietus."

He went down the stairs to thunderous applause, and nearly collapsed on top of Ron and Hermione.

Hermione hugged him and wiped tears out of her eyes. "You were wonderful Harry!' She said, her voice rising in volume in order to be heard over the band that had struck up their music again as soon as Harry had finished. "I'm so proud of you."

Harry smiled wanly, "thanks"

"Yeah," Said Ron "Good job, mate."

The three friend stood there in silence for a moment, until the band switched to a slower song and Ron cleared his throat slightly uncomfortably.

"Listen, mate, will you – er – " He cleared his throat again. 'You know, excuse us?"

Harry looked at him confused. "What?"

Ron looked at the dance floor meaningfully.

"Oh!" Harry said grinning, "Yeah, of course."

Ron grinned back at him and then raised his eyebrows at Hermione. She looked at him in confusion, and then smiled brilliantly as realization dawned and her cheeks glowed faintly pink.

"Oh Ron! Really?"

"Why do you always sound so surprised?" He asked indignantly. She threw herself into his arms and kissed him thoroughly.

"I promise never to sound surprised again," she said, after she had released him. It was Ron's turn to blush, and he rose magnificently to the occasion; his face slowly turned bright red from his chin to the roots of his hair, and he grinned like a lunatic.

Harry laughed and waved them away onto the dance floor. Still laughing, he turned and headed towards the drink table.

On his way there, a small hand slipped into his and pulled him through the crowd with remarkable force.

The two of them reached the lawn, just barely inside the halo of light that surrounded the party. Ginny stopped and hugged him.

"That was wonderful, Harry, I'm so sorry you had to go up there."

Harry put his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, breathing her scent in deeply.

"I love you," He told her quietly, "You know that, right?"

Ginny pressed her face into his chest and tightened her grip. "Of course I do," she said. Her voice was slightly muffled by his shirt.

She loosened her grip so that she could look up into his face, but didn't let go of him. "I love you too, Harry, more than you can ever know."

Harry looked at her. Ginny's eyes were bright and clear, her fiery hair was slightly rumpled from his touch, her lips were slightly parted, and she was looking at him like he was the only thing that mattered in the world.

"Marry me." Harry said suddenly.

Ginny's eyes widened, and she took a step back in surprise. "What?"

"I love you. I always will. You are the best thing that has ever or will ever happen to me and I have never been so sure of anything in my life." He took her hand in his. "Ginny, marry me."

Harry stopped talking, breathless. His heart was thumping furiously, and his eyes searched Ginny's face for some sign of what she was thinking.

Ginny was looking at him in wonder. Suddenly, her face split into the most heart wrenchingly beautiful smile Harry had ever seen.

"Yes." She said simply, still smiling for all she was worth. "Yes."

Harry's heart leaped. He looked around, and then knelt and plucked a small white flower from the lawn.

He tied the long slender stem in a loop and slipped it over her finger. Ginny looked at it, her eyes bright with tears, and then threw her arms around his neck and kissed him like he had never been kissed before.

"Come on," She said, twining her fingers through his, "Let's go tell mum. She'll be _thrilled_."

Harry, his head still reeling from Ginny's assault, allowed himself to be led back to the party.

His world was safe, he was in love, and Ginny had just made him the happiest man in the world.

_All was well._


	13. Chapter 13

Hello all! It's been a while, I'm sorry for that. School started again and with it all my other obligations and it's just been crazy. Anyway, I really truly am going to try to get this done as soon as I can, but I'm not going to make any promises on timing that I can keep. For now though, here's number 13.

Enjoy.

_Thirteen_

Harry stood perfectly still, his feet planted firmly on the ground. He clasped his hands in front of him and kept his eyes trained on the pattern of the carpet. The thumping of his heart was like a roaring in his ears. He was having trouble catching his breath; he couldn't believe this was happening. The whole thing seemed unreal; as though he would wake up in his bed at Hogwarts and this would all have been a dream. He could here Ron shuffling his shoes against the ground behind him, and he knew that his best friend was thinking of Hermione. The pattern on the rug was beginning to make him dizzy. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then the doors at the end of the room opened, and his head snapped up, his eyes wide.

A collective sigh circulated around the large room as Ginny followed Luna, Hermione, and some red-haired cousin that Harry didn't know well – her name might have been Charlotte – down the aisle. Ginny was radiant in a simple white sheath and long veil. Her red hair cascaded in curls over her shoulders. She caught Harry's eye and smiled at him.

Harry was already grinning widely, but his smile broadened in response to hers. He was entirely serene. With that familiar, perfect smile she had taken away all his anxiety; this was exactly where he was supposed to be. How could he have ever been worried about that? She was perfect, and she made him perfectly whole. He loved this fiery, unpredictable, kind, and beautiful redhead with every part of his being, and she loved him, too. She was marrying him. They were going to spend the rest of their lives together.

She reached the altar, and took his hand.

"_I do."_

"really?"

"_yes_, Harry, I really, _really_ do."

"If you're certain…"  
"_Harry_!"

Harry laughed and raised his hands in surrender. There was no arguing with his wife once she decided on something, though he had known this for years. He handed over the can of paint and the roller. "Just remember, in four hours when you're completely exhausted, you _really_wanted to paint this room all by yourself."

Ginny scowled and offered a suggestion as to where he could put his helpful comments. Harry chuckled again, "Don't say I didn't warn you."

He left her to it, and went downstairs to work on unpacking the kitchen. They had just moved into the little house near the burrow that they had bought from some muggles. Harry had wondered why they had conveniently and inexplicably been struck with a sudden desire to move to the seaside right around the time Harry and Ginny had told the Weasleys that they were looking for a house, but when he had mentioned the timing of that to his father-in-law, Arthur had merely expressed innocent surprise at the good fortune of his children.

Harry shook his head at the memory. Whatever the cause – and he may never know for sure – it had been an amazing stroke of luck for them to have gotten this beautiful little cottage so easily. He looked around the little kitchen; it was the perfect place for them to start a family – once he got all of these boxes out of the way. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to decide where was strategically best to start. Finally, he picked up a box at random and tore it open.

There were just three boxes left when he heard the shouted curse from upstairs followed by the expected

"Harry!"

"_Harry!"_

Harry sat up and rubbed his eyes blearily. It took him a moment to get his bearing. He was still in his quidditch gear, having come home from practice and gone right to sleep on the couch, and he was momentarily disoriented. Another shout rang out as he sat there.

"Harry! Get your arse up here or so help me I will have this baby without you!"

Harry jumped to his feet, all drowsiness dispelled, and sprinted up the stairs to the bedroom he shared with his wife. Ginny was sitting on the edge of the bed, cradling her stomach. She looked at him with wide eyes.

"He's coming!"

Harry only hesitated for a moment before grabbing the bag Ginny had packed from under the bed and grabbing her around the waist.

They appeared in the waiting room of St. Mungo's just as another wave of contractions hit Ginny. Harry watched helplessly as a group of nurses got her into a wheelchair and took her to a delivery room. A remaining nurse patted his arm reassuringly and told him that Ginny was going to be fine, he just needed to fill out some paperwork and he would be able to go right in with her. He nodded dumbly and signed where she pointed, and then allowed her to gently guide him to the correct room.

After what felt like a lifetime, crying filled the delivery room, and a nurse handed Ginny a small bundle wrapped in a blanket. Ginny smiled and handed their son to Harry. "Look what we did," she said, smiling, "What are we going to call him?"

Harry looked down at the little boy in his arms. Emerald green eyes gazed up at him from underneath a shock of black hair. This boy was entirely his son, just as he was entirely his father's.

"James," he said, "we'll call him James." Ginny smiled, pleased with this.

"_James._"

"What, dad?"

"Leave your brother alone, he's nervous enough."

"I'm just saying, I mean, everyone knows the old Severus was in Slytherin. It's a possibility."

"James Albus Potter, don't make me ask you again."

"Fine." The tall thirteen year old aimed a half-hearted kick at his brother before slouching off to join his mother and sister in the queue for the platform. Harry watched his oldest son go, shaking his head, and then turned to his younger son. Severus peered up at him worriedly through square metal-rimmed glasses. Like his father had been, he was small for his age, though with his chestnut hair and brown eyes he more resembled his mother. He clutched his school bag to his chest and asked quietly. "What if he's right, Dad?"

Harry knelt in front of his son and put his hands on Severus's shoulders. "Listen to me. There are very few things that I am absolutely certain of in this world, but this is one of them: Severus Snape, your namesake, was the bravest man I ever knew, and you are more than capable of living up to that legacy. Yes, he was a Slytherin, but there have been great Slytherins and cowardly Gryffindors and stupid Ravenclaws and scheming Hufflepuffs just as there have been others who were evil, or heroic, or brilliant, or loyal. It's up to you to be who you are; your house doesn't make you into something you weren't before, it just gives you a place to discover it, and you, Severus Frederick Potter, are incredible." Severus smiled slightly, but he still looked unconvinced.

"But what if I am in Slytherin?" He said.

Harry smiled at him, "Then you'll be in Slytherin, and they wil be lucky to have you, and I will be so very proud of you, no matter what."

"Really?"

"Always."

Severus nodded and threw his arms around his father's neck. Harry hugged his son tightly, and then released him. "Now let's get you on the train before you miss it and don't get into any houses at all." Severus nodded and grabbed the handle of his trunk.

"Thanks, dad."

Harry walked his son to the train and helped him load his trunk up after him. "Now," he said, "make sure to write to us. And don't forget to send Lily news; you know how she misses you. Don't let your brother get you into trouble, and remind your cousin Rose to write to her mother, because you know how your Aunt Hermione worries, and if your Uncle George sends you anything foolish remember: don't tell your mother." Severus grinned and Harry felt a sharp elbow in his side as Ginny came up behind him with their daughter.

"Don't you dare encourage him to keep things from me Harry Potter!" She said, but she was laughing. Harry smiled and shrugged apologetically and Ginny shook her head. "I've put James on the train already, he says he'll come and say goodbye in a moment once he finds a compartment." She pulled Severus into a hug and kissed the top of his head. "You be good, and we'll see you for Christmas, ok?"

He nodded. "Bye, mum."

James came up behind him and ruffled his hair. Harry said hugged his oldest son goodbye, pulled Lily away from Severus, and held her up so she could see as they watched the train roll out of the station. Then he carried her out through the barrier with his other arm around his wife.

He smiled as they made their way back to the car. He had a family, and a home, and he was raising his children in a world where the only thing to scare them at night was the prospect of a visit to their Uncle Dudley's.

He touched the scar on his forehead that had marked him as the chosen one from infancy.

The boy had lived, now the man was living.

_All__was__well_.


End file.
